


To be Struck by You

by Masterofpretending



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Dennis Reynolds POV, M/M, Movie Night!, based on a tumblr prompt, implied internalized homophobia, kinda angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 15:42:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19793944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masterofpretending/pseuds/Masterofpretending
Summary: With the touch came a spark of electricity that traveled through his body, humming against the hairs of his neck and making him shutter. For a second, it felt like he’d been electrocuted, his heart reawakened in the process.Dennis hated it, naturally.(Its movie night; Mac has fallen asleep and Dennis, being Dennis, conspires for the best and most evil way to wake him up)





	To be Struck by You

It was movie night and unfortunately Mac had suddenly developed a taste for “changing things up for once” resulting in the viewing of The Hangover Two. Dennis was of the strong opinion that change was overrated (since when did Predator turn unsatisfactory?) but his protests and sarcastic remarks might as well have been pennies to a billionaire. It was Mac’s turn to pick the movie and that fact didn't change just because he happened to pick a steaming pile of garbage. Even more unfortunately, Mac had, approximately 20 minutes into the movie decided to fall asleep. This, in turn, resulted in Dennis not only having to deal with watching a sequel (and everybody knows sequels generally suck) but more so watching it alone. 

He tore his eyes away from the drug-dealing monkey on the screen (this movie was getting more ridiculous by the minute) in favor of stealing a glance at the snoring man beside him. Mac had small pieces of popcorn stuck in his stubble and he was wearing one of his atrocious t-shirts with cut-off sleeves. He was slumped down, his legs carelessly thrown out in front of him and his head resting on the couch angled towards the yellow-stained ceiling. Dennis sighed, silently conspiring whether or not to flick Mac’s nose to wake him up. He was snoring lightly and if Dennis would have been even mildly invested in the movie, he was sure he would have found it intensely irritating. But he wasn't, and he didn't. In fact, he found his attention shifting from the movie to Mac, his stupid sleeveless shirt and his equally stupid half-open mouth. His mind started to wander again and he replaced his nose flicking idea with a scheme to put some popcorn in Mac’s mouth only to have him desperately choke it up a second later. It would be funny, and Dennis was pretty sure the comedic value in the prank outweighed the risk of Mac getting pissed off. Well, Mac _would_ be getting pissed, there was no doubt about that, but he rarely _stayed_ pissed. He was good like that; like a storm or a heavy rainfall, passionate but gone as soon as it arrived. He would shout and puff his chest out like he was making himself ready for the fight of his life, but the blow would never come and everyone ended up living another day. Dennis wondered what it was like to wear his heart on his sleeve like that. He imagined it like a cheap carnival ride, thrilling but with a high risk of getting your hair stuck in the machine and ripped out along with half your scalp (in a metaphorical sense). 

Mac shifted beside him and suddenly a warm and freckled arm was pressed against his own pale (but not too pale by any means) skin. With the touch came a spark of electricity that traveled through his body, humming against the hairs of his neck and making him shutter. For a second, it felt like he’d been electrocuted, his heart reawakened in the process. Dennis hated it, naturally. His heart was supposed to remain stagnant and cold for a reason. The same reason he didn't go to the carnival anymore and the same reason he always chose Predator for movie night; Its what kept him safe. And just because he valued self-preservation didn't mean he was a pussy. It was a question of logic really, making reasonable predictions based on observable patterns. Sketchy carnival rides made you spend the night at the ER and having feelings (or whatever that awful spark in his heart was indicating) ended up making things messy. Dennis didn't like messy, _that_ he knew for sure. When things got messy the walls didn't just close down on him, they crumbled over him. When things got messy he couldn't breathe and his body ached like it was about to snap in two. All sounds around him turned into static and his favourite song suddenly felt sharp against his eardrums. Charlie looked at him like he was anticipating a slap across the face, Dee just sighed, having grown tired of his bullshit a long time ago. Mac was always the one gripping him tightly by the shoulders, his words disappearing as soon as they left his mouth but his touch steady and grounding. Dennis hated it when things got messy so he did what any other rational man would do and carefully took a popcorn from the bowl, giving it a light push into Mac’s mouth. His fingertips heated at the touch of Mac’s parted lips and he cursed as he felt the other man’s warm breath on his skin. 

“What time is it, did I-” Mac mumbled, prompting Dennis to draw his hand back like it was on fire. 

Then, as Dennis had anticipated, Mac’s words got swallowed by a violent coughing fit. His eyes shot open only to start watering and Dennis leaned back, watching the entire ordeal play out like a Shakespearean play. Mac made a beastly gurgling sound, hitting his chest as he did so, and finally, the innocent popcorn flew out like a bird that just learned to use its wings. Mac took a deep breath, his eyes wide and childlike, making it impossible for Dennis to do anything other than snicker. 

“You dick,” Mac gasped dramatically, which, of course only made Dennis laugh harder, “you absolute dick, you did this?”

“Sleep with your mouth closed next time,” Dennis said, trying to sound sarcastic but the wide grin on his face betraying him. 

Mac soon followed, his eyes narrowed but the corners of his lips pulling up, the first indication that he was not as angry as he wanted to appear. 

“You are the _worst_ ,” Mac shook his head like a disapproving parent, “I could have died, I could have _choked_ to death, did you know that choking is the second biggest cause of death in America, that shit is not a joke.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Dennis retorted and this time he managed to sound more snarky and less playfully teasing. Would his fingertips not still be shaking from the memory of Mac’s lips he could have almost been proud of himself. 

Mac huffed, turning his attention to the movie still playing in the background. At some point Mike Tyson had appeared and Dennis did not know nor care how exactly he fit into the already nonsensical script. But despite the boxers impressive physique Mac’s eyes didn't stay on the screen for long. Instead, his gaze shifted to the nearly empty popcorn bowl laying between them. Either Mac was predictable or the two of them had known each other for way too long because Dennis swore he flinched a second before Mac’s hand was even reaching for the bowl. His flinching however, did nothing to stop the rain of popcorn soon flying his way a moment later. 

“How dare-” he began but he's open mouth soon learned to be a mistake as Mac promptly tried to stuff it with more popcorn. 

Dennis masterfully blocked the attack by gripping Macs wrist, he did not however anticipate the other man’s entire body weight pushing him down as Mac launched forward, letting out something between a growl and a giggle. 

“You don’t think I dare- _you don't think I dare, dude_?!” Mac taunted, straddling Dennis with his legs.

Admittedly Mac had gained the physical upper hand, but all was not lost yet. If Dennis could just focus for a second he could surely get out of this a winner. His hand was still wrapped around Mac’s wrist and he could feel the other man’s quickening pulse under his fingertips. Maybe if he distracted him, got him riled up to the point that he lost all focus, maybe then he could gain control again. 

“What are you gonna do, hm?” Dennis taunted back, his voice low and his eyes steady on his target.

Something in Mac’s face shifted, a tinted pink creeping up over his neck as he gulped. Perfect, Dennis thought, even at a disadvantage he had taken his opponent apart with his intimidating presence and superior- 

And then Mac was kissing him. It was brief at first, a toe in the water before jumping in, the other man’s lips on his too hard and unsure. They pulled apart before Dennis could even register it but that didn't stop him from leaning right back in, dropping Mac’s wrist like it hadn't even been important in the first place and instead grabbing him by the face, smashing their mouths back together. Was kissing supposed to feel like your body being electrocuted into pieces and being put together again all at once? Dennis honestly could not remember what it felt like to be kissed before Mac kissed him that night but he imagined it pathetic in comparison. He wasted no time letting his tongue slip into the other man’s mouth, getting drunk on their shared touch, the way Mac’s body breathed against his. He tasted vaguely like the beer they’ve had before, the beer they drank all the time, and something else; sweet and uncategorizable. Being electrocuted, and the pain that came with it was supposed to make you pull away in shock, not ache for more. And Dennis could feel the electricity everywhere; in his bones, under his skin, in his heart, in the goddamn air, and yet he couldn't do anything but gasp as Mac captured his bottom lip between his teeth, leaving them feeling sore in the most wonderful way possible. He was no longer a prisoner between Mac’s legs, he was there as a willing participant, hypnotized by the feel of the other man’s body on top of his, the loaded space between them, begging to be closed. Mac’s hand dropping the popcorn all over the sofa to grab his waist. Mac’s mouth placing desperate kisses over his neck, leaving traces of electricity all over his skin. Mac’s gelled up hair coming undone between his fingers. Mac’s knee finding its way between his legs, his breathy moan as Dennis leaned into the friction. _Mac, Mac, Mac_ , it was the only thing he could think about, the only thing that existed at that moment, and without a second of warning, it all got ripped away from him. 

The first thing Dennis noticed was the absence of lips against his skin and then the next thing he knew Mac had stood up, stumbling away from the sofa, from him, like he was fucking infected. 

“I’m not, that's not,” he stuttered, “Dennis you know I can’t-”

He let the words die out and despite all the constant talk of being manly and tough Mac looked scared, terrified even. His eyes had turned dark but they're no longer drinking in the presence of Dennis every chance they got. In fact, Mac was not even looking at him anymore, instead shifting uncomfortably to the crucifix hung by the door. Dennis thought it was ugly, he'd barely noticed it before but now he was overwhelmed by the urge to rip it apart, letting the broken pieces decorate the floor. It hit him that Mac was a complete mess. His hair was sticking out in all directions and his lips were red and swollen in a way that the rest of the gang would tease him for endlessly. Then, horrifyingly enough, Dennis realized, that Mac was not the only one who was a mess. His own throat was bruised with hickeys and his half hard dick suddenly felt very neglected with the absence of Mac grinding against it. There was popcorn all over the floor, probably stuck between the couch cushions, and the God awful movie was still rolling. 

“I am…” Mac began, and his tone shifted into something vaguely resembling an artificial normal, “like so drunk, hah, I probably won’t even remember this tomorrow…” 

He nodded to himself like it wasn't the worst lie he’d pulled yet, and his hands got tucked away in his pockets.

“I’m just gonna pop out for a bit, get sobered up.”

Dennis should have answered him, stop him, tell him that he couldn't run anymore. He should have done something, _anything_. 

The sound of the door slamming shut felt hollow and Dennis didn't move. 

  
The thing that people, the thing that _Dennis_ kept forgetting about electricity was that it was a fucking health hazard. It left you with bruised, sore skin. It left you worse than it found you; cold in the absence of its warmth. It made you want to rip yourself apart and take the world with you. It left you a mess and it made you wonder if it was worth it, the thrill of the spark in exchange for the desperate wish not to have known it in the first place.

**Author's Note:**

> It wasn't supposed to end up this long (and it definitely was not supposed to have been written at 2am) but here we are ,,, Anyway, its my first time writing an iasip fanfic so if you liked it please let me know and I'll feel encouraged to write more for this pairing :)


End file.
